The Cliche
by LMR
Summary: A new episode of SU2 has our agents tracking down a dangerous (yet hilarious) link. All the usual elements of SU2. KN pairing (duh!)
1. A Little Too Typical

The Cliche

By: LMR

Spoilers: The Yellow Rose and The Sock

A/N: This story takes up where the series left off. Consider it just another episode!

Disclaimer: No links were harmed in the making of this fic, and no ownership was infringed, either.

The Cliche

Chapter 1: A Little Too Typical

The high schooler wore black combat boots over fishnet stockings and a lacy dress. Though she followed no particular religious belief, she wore about five crosses around her neck, big, gaudy, ugly things. Her unnaturally blonde hair was pulled three different ways in wild ponytails held together with puffy scruuncies. She was playing air guitar in her poster decked bedroom and wailing unintellegably with a punk rock singer. It wasn't that she couldn't sing coherently, but she couldn't understand the words to the song any better than her parents could. Naturally, her parents were the reason she owned this vile CD. She would have hated this band, normally, but when her father commented that their music was "garbage" when it came on the radio once, she immediately bought the album. She truly believed she loved this song.

"Turn that trash down!" Her father's voice.

She mumbled something under her breath. A pause between the tracks, and she picked up an ice cream sundae setting on her dresser. She took a bite, and as she moved to pull the spoon out of her mouth, a look of shocked horror overcame her face. It was stuck. It hurt! It was choking her! She fell to the floor as the band began to play their hit single "Slimy Mflump." (They don't know what it means, either, but as long as parents hate it, it sells BIG.)

Cool music and credits here.

Kate set her coffe mug on the desk. Funny, even though she had never missed a day of work in years (except for that unfortunate incident with the hypnolink, she shuddered at the thought), she felt like it had been forever since she'd been here. Strange. Nick noticed the look on her face.

"Thinking about the hypnolink again? "Cause I promise, nobody even noticed that you weren't, you know," he ducked his head, "Wearing anything. Most of us were too busy falling into the abyss and being chased by clowns."

"No, I just get this weird feeling. Like I'm back after a long, boring vacation. It's weird. You know what I mean?"

"Sorry, you lost me when you put 'vacation' and 'boring' into the same sentence."

She took a sip. "What are you talking about? You're the workaholic. As long as work includes interrogating links and blowing things up, of course." She smiled.

He grinned viciously. "I take great pride in what I do."

"No, you take homicidal glee in what you do."

He shrugged. "Same difference."

A booming voice snapped them out of their banter. "Benson! O'Malley!"

They followed Captain Page to his office, where Jonathan was already waiting, looking like it was Christmas.

Captain Page looked grim, but then, he seemed to have no other look. "We've got a case of a Literarilus down in a suburb of the city, Naperville. I need you for this case. Jonathan, explain."

Jonathan opened his mouth to start.

"And if you use the word 'wow' once, I'm going to feed you to the tenticle," he warned.

Jonathan didn't look at all happy about _that_. "Um, right, Captain. Uh, no problem. Well, the Literarilus, this is really cool, is so named because it makes everything so ridiculously literal, it's like. . ." he hesitated, not trusting his vocabulary, afraid his excitement would betray him. "It turns everything you say into reality. Every cliche becomes true. It's frightning."

"I'm not following," Kate said, impressed with Jonathan's ability to restrain himself.

"We found a teenage girl in her bedroom, and get this. . ." He was very nearly bursting. "She had been gagged with a spoon!"

"Shouldn't this be a case for homicide?" Kate wondered.

"No," Jonathan explained. "You don't understand. Nobody gagged her with the spoon. She just was gagged with a spoon! You see how destructive this link could potentially be? I mean, w-."

Nick interrupted just in time. "First person to say 'I'm coming apart at the seams,' this could get ugly."

"Exactly. That's why we gotta nip this thing in the bud!" Jonathan was practically hopping up and down.

"And there's another one you wouldn't want to say around this thing," Kate pointed out.

Jonathan winced, getting a bad mental image.

"All right. How do we kill this thing?" Nick wanted to know.

"Standard red ammo," Jonathan informed them.

"Um, no offense, Captain," Kate said, "But you said you needed us for this case. Why us?"

The Captain didn't look thrilled about dilivering this news. "This link is in suburbia. We need undercover agents who won't seem. . . out of place." He looked ridiculously awkward for someone of his status. "We need to send in a married couple."

And so it is revealed, my friends, the REAL reason this story is called the cliche! Every series like this has one of these episodes! The Scarecrow and Mrs. King, for instance, had 3! Now this is going to be a fun cliche.

Questions to be answered next time!

Will they accept this ridiculous assignment? (Of course they will. I call the shots here!)

What cliche will come to life next?

Why do I bother with these stupid questions that nobody reads?

Does this guy explode when we kill him?


	2. One Big Happy Something

The Cliche

By: LMR

Disclaimer: If you read this disclaimer and pass it on the five of your friends within two weeks, you will recieve marvelous fanfiction reviews for the rest of your life and retire happily in Boca someday, famous for your marvelous fanfiction. If you don't all your favorite shows will be cancelled, and you'll get nothing but flames. That said, SU2 is not mine. ;)

Spoilers: Whatever episode it was where Nick revealed that he had been married. Anybody know?

Chapter 2: One Big Happy Something

The look on Kate's face was priceless. "You've got to be kidding." The brash tone to a superior was not like Kate. This was a rather unique situation, however, and she felt she could take a little leeway with the formalities. Especially since what she really wanted to say was-

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR SMEGGING MIND!!!!!!?????????" Carl voiced her thoughts. The gnome had been listening in on their meetings. "They can't be married!"

"Darn, and I was just about to call Mom with the good news." As usual, Nick's face was practically unreadable.

"I'm sorry, Captain," Kate shook her head. "I have to agree with Carl." They all looked at her with a strange expression. "I know, I know, scary."

Captain Page was exhasperated. "It's not as if you would really be married. It would just be a charade for the sake of the civilians in the area." He looked somewhat forlorn. "I thought out of all our agents, you two could probably pull it off best." He raised his arms as if to defend himself against the onslaught he seemed to know he would get. "Don't take it the wrong way, it's just that you two are. . ." He searched for the words that wouldn't get him in trouble. "You have the right comraderie to pull it off."

Kate conceded. Carl just grinned. "Nick and Kay-ate sittin' in a tree. K-I-ooooooffff!" This last utterance was not meant to be a letter, but rather a reaction to the fact that O'Malley had just punched him squarely in his low altitude gut. But Carl was not without repose, and Nick was immediately laid out on the precinct floor.

"Why you little . . . !" The fight went on while Kate, Jonathan, and Captain Page watched, practically bored with the everyday specticle.

"You should send them," Kate commented. "They already act like an old married couple."

"No good," the Captain responded as if it were a serious suggestion. "We want a newly married couple. Besides, Carl's got another part to play in all this."

Kate raised her eyebrows in question. The Captain positively grinned this time. "Kate, meet your son."

Through the scuffle, Nick managed to squish his face out enough to question the Captian. "You mean I have to pretent that this underevolved mutant is my kid?" Carl whacked him upside the head.

"Nope. Stepson. He hates you."

"You better believe it," the gnome intoned, straightening himself up.

"Awww, come to Mommy," Kate joked, beginning to take the role in stride. "She patted Carl on the head.

"You are Nick and Kate Greenwood and Carl Smuzepot. You just got back from your honeymoon in Hawaii. You live at nine oh eight Caitlin Circle, and you, Nick are a successful daytrader. Kate, your very convenient hobbies are photography and astronomy, which will explain the survailence equipment. Carl, you're a rotten little brat who has to be homeschooled because you got caught stealing out of the other children's cubby holes." Carl huffed. "Everybody got your part?" Sensing no dissent, he nodded resolutely. "Good. Head out."

"I get to drive," Nick said, as if he really needed to.

"You know," Kate said, as if suddenly coming to a wonderful conclusion. "You can't boss me around anymore. I'm your wife, I outrank you." She practically giggled with glee.

He pointed as if to teach her a valuable life lesson. "Just remember, Kate. I've been married. You haven't. You have no idea what hell you're in for."

A new expression dawned on Kate's face. "That's right. You never told me anything more about that."

"And I'm not going to," he insisted.

"You brought it up," Kate pointed out as they turned onto 88.

"Consider it put away."

Hmmmmm. What next???? I don't really know, or I would have written it already!

Questions:

What will be revealed about Nick's past marriage?

What catchphrase will cause the link to strike next?

Is Captain Page out of his smegging mind?

More to be revealed later! Stay tuned!


	3. A Plan!

The Cliché

Chapter 3:

Disclaimer: If I ever get ownership of Special Unit 2, I'll eat my ceiling fan. It would be worth it, but it's not gonna happen.

A/N: Sorry for the wait, kids, but you know it's worth it!

"Alright, Nick, we're almost there, so let's lay down some ground rules."

"Only married two hours and I'm getting lectured," Nick said.

"Come on, I'm serious. This is work," Kate reminded him. "Rule number one, Carl is your stepson, so no beating on him. We can't draw undue attention to ourselves."

"I was actually pretty good as a regular cop. I know that's hard to believe, judging by what an immature brat I am . . ."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to insult you; I know you're a good cop."

Nick acted surprised. "Actually, I wasn't being sarcastic. It _is_ hard to believe."

"And Carl, don't provoke him."

"I'm his stepson. I'm supposed to provoke him. Getting into character, I realize that my entire existence revolves around making you miserable for marrying my dear mommy." He smiled wickedly at Kate.

"Carl, we are not there yet, and until we are, I am your dear nothing," she reminded him. Nick grinned.

"Here we are." Nick pulled up to a nice house. "Cool place. I wonder if there's a hot tub?"

"Nick, we're here to work, I don't think you can do very good surveillance from a hot tub."

"No, but we could go a long way to convincing the neighbors that we really are newlyweds."

Without missing a beat, Kate shot back. "Which brings us to rule number two (or 12 if you're an NCIS fan!). Try anything, and your pepper spray ends up in a different time zone. Got it?"

"Hey, come on, if I'd really ever wanted to 'try anything,' don't you think I would have the other week when I was at your place. (A/N: The Sock)

Kate was suddenly very glad she wasn't driving because she felt the need to look out her window and hold her rapidly pinkening face away from view.

"Hey, Kate, what's he talking about?" Carl wanted to know.

"We got together and watched some movies last Saturday," Nick explained.

Fortunately, Carl didn't even think to turn it into an off-color joke. "Why wasn't I invited?"

"Because you suck," Nick said calmly. Kate, meanwhile, was feeling hideously embarrassed at having mentioned 'trying anything,' when she had been the one to cross the line last time they'd been together.

Nick was thinking about that, too. He had never acted inappropriately with her. I mean, he made some jokes that might normally come across as sexual harassment, but they could get away with that, they were best friends. And if he ever got out of line, there was no doubt in Nick's mind that Kate could pound him. That kiss had thrown him for a loop, and he took the easy way out by pretending to be asleep. He hadn't wanted to escape it, really, but he was afraid that she would consider it a lapse of judgment and it would be easier for them both this way. Conveniently for the fanfiction writer, who had, at this point run out of internal dialog, Nick parked the car, and they all got out.

No sooner had they set foot on the pavement when they heard a horrified scream.

"Help me, please!" The woman next door was screaming. "Something's wrong with my daughter, help please." Cops first, Nick and Kate rushed over to see what they could do. They found the woman's teenage daughter in her bedroom slumped over her desk. Grey goo was seeping out her ears. Kate took the girl's pulse, then looked at her mother mournfully.

"Nick call an ambulance." She made eye contact and mouthed, so the mother wouldn't hear, "No hurry." She turned her attention completely to the girl's mother. "What happened, exactly?"

"She was studying for a chemistry test she had in three days." She began sobbing. "The last thing she said was, 'My brains are turning to mush!' I can't believe she's gone!" Kate tried desperately to comfort her new neighbor, moving her away from the body, and trying to keep the paramedics away from her when they arrived.

Later that evening, at 'home,' Kate took a sip of coffee. "We can't let that happen again, Nick, we've got to find some way to render the literalus powerless until we can find it. We don't know where to start looking, and we certainly can't wait for it to strike again."

Nick nodded, and Kate could tell he was thinking. "We need to make everybody shut up."

"Is there any kind of serum or anything?" Kate realized immediately how stupid that had sounded, but she was still somewhat unfamiliar with the world of links and link hunting.

"No," Nick said, not bothering to make fun of her. "Hey, Carl, you know any link who could help us out with this?"

Carl looked up guiltily from where he was using the telescope to look in the neighbor's window.

"Stop spying on the neighbors, Carl. You're supposed to be a little kid, so you really can't be looking in women's windows," Kate reminded him.

"I'm not!" He said defensively. Then he mumbled under his breath, "I was casing the joint." Kate looked at him severely.

"A link, Carl, help," Nick reminded him.

"Right. I know a guy who might help us out here. The Halteparle. Capable of paralyzing the voice boxes of large groups at a time."

"Well, it sounds good," Kate tried to map out what would follow. "If I were the people here, and I suddenly couldn't talk, I would panic."

"Alice and damage control could take care of that," Nick offered.

"How?" Kate wondered.

"Shh. Follow sci-fi rule number 23 (If you want to live, never touch a Marine's coffee? No, that's Gibbs's rule number 23). Rule number 23 says if you don't know how to take care of a difficult situation that could complicate the plot, just don't mention it, and the audience won't think of it!"

"Got it," Kate answered. "If I were them, though, I'd start writing stuff down to communicate. Can the Literalus use written words to make clichés?"

"Nope. He'd love to, I'm sure, but like most links, he's dumb as a post and can't read."

"Hey, I resent that!" Carl shouted.

"I know you do," Nick replied simply. "That's why I said it."

"But how will we be able to hunt down the Literalus even after everyone's voice is gone? They could be missing their voices forever," Kate pointed out.

"Not really. The Literalus has to find clichés to use, and it will follow the voices. Naturally we'll keep our own voices so we can work. We'll just have to speak very carefully. He'll come right here, and we'll blow him away."

Kate nodded. "Sounds like a plan. Carl, can you contact this guy?"

"What's in it for me?" Carl asked.

"I don't smash your face in."

"Okie-dokie."

Ooh, how exciting!

Here are the stupid questions I always ask:

What does the Literalus look like? (I don't know, but I'll have fun deciding.)

Does the Literalus blow up? (Duh.)

What does the Literalus look like while he's blowing up? (Hmm.)

When do we get to the part about hot dogs and 'ship talk? (Soon, I promise.)

Where might the Literalus go if he can't find people to give him clichés? (Can't answer this one; I actually have an answer already! Very hush hush!)


	4. THE BRIALLIANT PLAN! flops on its head

The Cliché Chapter 4: THE BRILLIANT PLAN! (flops on its head)

By LMR

Disclaimer (a dialog):

Some Law and Order dude: Come on, detectives, we have a fanfiction writer who doesn't own a series writing about it!

Detective: We better get over there without giving the audience a chance to realize that they lost the story ten doink-doinks ago!

DOINK-DOINK! LMR's house.

LMR: Hey, if I have to be all interrogated and stuff, can I have Goren?

"How can we be sure your little buddy the Haltaparle won't zap us, too?" Nick asked Carl after the gnome had called him up.

"Just don't be rude to him and you'll be fine," Carl assured him.

"Maybe I better talk to him," Kate said.

"Hey, come on, Kate, I am capable of not being rude, you know." The doorbell rang.

Kate looked nervously at her partner and the gnome. "Everybody know their parts?" She went to the door and found a smiling old lady.

"Hello, just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood. My name is Sophie, I live two doors down on your right. No, left. No, right. My left, your right. Well, anyway, I'm your neighbor, and I brought cookies." She said all this before Kate even got the chance to invite her into the house.

"Oh, how lovely of you, Sophie, come on in. I'm Kate, this is my husband, Nick," (Geez that's weird!), "And this is my son, Carl."

"What's for dinner, Mommy?" Carl asked in an unnaturally high voice.

Kate looked a little annoyed at this but Nick took the opportunity to interject. "Carl, your mother's been working hard all day, it's not polite to just demand dinner like that." Kate looked genuinely surprised and happy.

"Thank you."

"What's for dinner, Honey?" he whined, putting his hand on her shoulder.

Kate smiled acidly. She put her hand on his, still smiling and trying for all the world to appear to Sophie to be squeezing it, when in fact, she was squeezing it with about the force a woman uses when squeezing her husband's hand while she is in labor, usually screeching, "You're never touching me again!" What Kate said, however, as Nick grimaced and tried desperately to get his hand away, was "I've been working hard all day, and it's your night to fix dinner, remember?" She smiled sweetly.

"Hot dogs it is."

"You're welcome to stay for dinner," Kate offered, stepping aside so Sophie could enter. "I'm sure Nick wouldn't mind throwing on an extra hot dog or two."

"No problem, Sweetie," Nick called as he headed to the kitchen.

Sophie smiled at Carl, pretending not to notice that he was truly hideous for a little child. "Hello, Carl, nice to meet you."

"Hello, Lady," replied Carl in his unnatural voice.

Kate tried to look as natural as possible. "Carl, sweetie, have you finished those math problems I gave you?"

"Yeah, Mommy, all done."

Kate was surprised at how well this little charade was going. It was weird. "Great, honey, I'll check them right after dinner."

"So nice to see a man cooking dinner, and parents helping with their children's homework. I just know we're going to love having you in the neighborhood."

Dinner was ready soon after that. However it was possible to burn hotdogs to a charcoal crisp in the microwave, Nick had managed to do it. But they tasted okay, and the Sophie was, as Kate had hoped, the neighborhood gossip. Before the end of the meal they had learned the names of the woman whose daughter had had her brains turned to mush by the Literalus, her husband and their three children, where everyone in the neighborhood worked, and who was having an affair with the mailman (Mrs. Furgleshnort). It wasn't Wisteria Lane, but it was interesting enough, and after Sophie left, Kate made a who's who map of the neighborhood, marking off where the two victims of the Literalus had met there sordid ends. It looked like he was headed North, but two pinpoints doesn't make for a very good plotted course, and the detectives knew that there best chance was for the Haltaparle to show up soon.

Fortunately, the Haltaparle has very good timing, unless of course you need him in a tediously boring class, in which case he will _never_ show up. This is what makes him a monster. You know he _could_ visit your three hour political science 400 course, but does he, of course not!

But today, when the detectives needed him, his timing was impeccable.

Questions to ponder before the next installment:

Is there a certain obnoxious pop star whose lyrics can be used by the Literalus to brutalize her? (Please?)


End file.
